


A Dream Within A Dream

by Zebooboo



Series: Drink the Sea [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 15:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zebooboo/pseuds/Zebooboo
Summary: "You're important. And I don't mean for the City.""...""Get some rest.""...yeah. Hey, there's two bottles of your stuff in the bottom cabinet.""Would you stop stealing my stuff? Tevis taught you some bad habits."





	A Dream Within A Dream

**Author's Note:**

> the burn continues

He used to like the quiet corners of the City. All the dark corners and the shaded benches, colourful drapes overhead. It was comforting in a way sitting around the Tower never was.

Now he walked and whispers followed him around, tagging at his heels, driving him up the walls.

He would have the silence and the curious glances from his earlier days when nobody knew him back in a heartbeat.

(Being a Nightstalker is still a novelty, to be honest. Just more used to it now.)

He was no Iron Lord. (What Iron Lord can't even protect his own fireteam, he keeps losing them. One by one, by one, by _one_ , **_by one_**...)

He tipped his glass on a corner with his finger. The liquid sloshed dangerously for a second. He was alone this time.

He was alone a lot of the time.

At least he got to play catch up with Shiro before shit hit the fan again. Before he went off to kill more would be threats.

(Kill more so-called Gods, and wasn't it irony? Getting yelled at by disembodied voices for doing his job. Because at some point, killing gods and anything approchibg one had become _his_ job and wasn't that just swell.)

He brought the glass to his mouth, taking a careful sip. Hardly three drinks in and he was very drunk. Fucking lightweight.

Lord Saladin requested him at the Peak soon after he returned from Oryx's piece of Ascendant Realm. (Toland's shouting had still been ringing in his head when Mia told him he got a message. He didn't read it for days afterwards. Too busy burying everyone who followed him on that fool's errand. He tried to mourn properly, it wasn't going well. He tried anyway. )

He was going to put that off for as long as he could. He had enough of Lord Shaxx calling out to him every time he passed by. (Young Wolf he called him. He hardly felt like it. He got thrown into Crucible anyway.)

He didn't need Saladin calling him something he's not. Didn't need any more odd titles attached to his name. He's got a wide enough berth already from other Guardians, he didn't need to give them more reason to skirt around him.

(People died around him more often than not. But they are in a constant war, it happens. Unless you are Feros. God-killer, Fallen-hunter, Hivebane, _Iron Lord_. He was too dangerous, even by Guardian standards.)

A hand patted his back lightly. He jerks around, half surprised and half frightened. Why would anyone want to talk with him? He still reeks of the Ascendant realm. (Still reeks of _Darkness_.)

(He is also slumped drunk over the bar.)

Cayde pulled away his hand and wiggled his fingers at the other Hunter. The Nightstalker relaxed back into a hunch.

Careful fingers pried the glass out of his hands and tugged him upwards. His arm was slung over Cayde's shoulders and the world tilted on its axis as he moved. The alcohol churned on his stomach.

"I heard that, don't you dare throw up on me. You know you really need to stop drinking, you're awful at it. _And_  you keep losing your stomach every time. It's not even worth the glimmer. And the appeal of watching you turn over you guts wore off a _long_ time ago. Like your first year. And it's been, what? 40 years?"

The droning of Cayde's voice kept him occupied while the walked, helped keep his stomach down. When the Vanguard paused he realised that he really was expecting an answer rather than just talking to distract him. He tried to pull enough brain together for an answer.

"Should be... 39 years in a couple of months...augh." He stopped walking and turned his face away, taking in slow, slow breaths.

"Eh, close enough. And look at that right there, drinking isn't your thing. How about knitting? Doubt Zavala would say no to teaching you the basics. Maybe archiving? Old Rahool might want the extra hand. Or maybe, you know Marc or Enoch might want an assistant or something."

He really wanted to sock Cayde in the face. But if he jerked around now he would throw up for sure. Decisions, decisions.

In the end he caught the Gunslinger in the stomach, his fist hurt more and he still ended up getting his back rubbed while he emptied his innards in some dingy alley.

\---

Cayde dumped him in his bed and told him to take some time off. No missions, no reports, no Crucible, no Iron Banner, no more God slaying or Hunting. Nothing. Just rest.

He listened with half an ear, fully intending on jumping on his ship and scouring the Wilds after a nap. That is until Cayde realised he was being ignored. Then he called for Mia.

Feros jerked upright too quickly and got dizzy. Mia would keep him City bound no matter how much he tried to leave if Cayde convinced her it would be good for him.

(She knew he needed a break, but he wouldn't listen to her when it came to taking care of himself. Otherwise she was his confidant and closest, perkiest and spikiest friend. She will poke out his optics one of these days if he doesn't start seriously listening to her about that.)

But in the end Mia and Sundance are friends, if Cayde asks Sundance to help him on this, Sundance will convince Mia. Not that she was against it, but having backup for Feros' mullish head seemed to please her immensely.

Seemed he was grounded for good. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. Cayde looked amlost too pleased with himself.

He squeezed Feros' shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't wear yourself thin. Take some time. You've done enough. We can't ask for more."

He wanted to protest. Wanted to stand up and argue that he can't stop. That the whispers might catch up to him, that he might start falling and falling but didn't.

He knew the answer to all that and it was too much to hear out loud. Cayde wouldn't let another Nightstalker fall like that. Wouldn't let another one of His fall like that.

He just set his hand over Cayde's and squeezed back. He wasn't alone, he keeps forgetting that.

("Silly Fee. I got your back.

"Still feels like too much."

"And it's not enough."

"Why?"

"You're important. And I don't mean for the City."

"..."

"Get some rest."

"...yeah. Hey, there's two bottles of your stuff in the bottom cabinet."

"Would you stop stealing my stuff? Tevis taught you some bad habits."

"I know."

"Woah he finally admits it!"

"Har, har, get out you snark, you're on your shift."

"What Zavala doesn't know can't hurt him."

"Just go you fucking disaster. I need to sleep."

"Alright, see ya later sleeping beaut-HEY what did the pillow ever do to you?"

"Get out Cayde or I'll throw up on you and then throw you out."

"Jeez, I'm going, so testy."

_Click._

"...Thanks."

_"YOU'RE WELCOME!"_

"GET AWAY FROM MY DOOR CAYDE!")

**Author's Note:**

> Fee has some issues, I just wanna hug my boi


End file.
